


If We Win the Treble

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Celebrations, Champions League, Copa del Rey, FC Barcelona, Football | Soccer, La Liga, M/M, Neymessi, Work In Progress, treble - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4109503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can fuck me if we win the treble."</p><p>The Leo/Neymar version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We Win the Treble

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on several treble celebratory stories at once! This is the Leo/Neymar version!
> 
> This story takes place after Barcelona lost 1-0 to Real Sociedad on January 4, 2015. Neither Messi nor Neymar started the game.

After the loss to Real Sociedad, Leo is a nightmare to live with.

The only time he's anything close to tolerable is when he's drunk. Because when Leo's drunk, he seems to forget anything and everything that has to do with football. And when he forgets the game, he forgets all of the pressure he's under, and finally fucking relaxes.

And Neymar is absolutely not ashamed to say that he uses this knowledge to his advantage as frequently as possible. Unfortunately, with training nearly every day, the opportunities to get Leo drunk are few and far in between. So Neymar is simply forced to deal with a pissy Leo most of the time.

After the game against Atletico though, Leo is in the mood to celebrate. And Neymar is certainly not going to turn down the chance to drink with Leo--not when it means a chance that Leo will stop cursing about losing that stupid game against Real Sociedad and moping around every single second.

But it doesn't stop Neymar from muttering that maybe Leo's real problem is that he needs to get laid.

Leo's glare is adorably weak, and Neymar ignores it in favor of taking a sip of his drink. Leo continues to give him the stink eye. "You know I don't have sex during the season," Leo says petulantly. His drink is only half empty, so he's still being a pain in Neymar's ass, and hasn't yet reached that point of dreamy happiness that the alcohol will eventually bring.

Neymar rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I know that," he says, wiping off his mouth. "I think it's stupid, but I know." Neymar looks hard at Leo. "Seriously, you'd feel so much better if you just forgot about your stupid rule for one second." When Leo looks away, Neymar continues. "Is it about finding somebody? Because I'll help you find somebody."

Leo shakes his head, still looking away from Neymar. He chugs the rest of his drink and then turns to collapses face first onto Neymar's couch as if he's trying to escape the conversation. His fingers clench in the fabric.

Neymar wants to reach out and rub his back, wants to comfort him, wants to do anything to make Leo feel better. But he can't be sorry he's bringing this topic up. "Leo," he says sighing. "You need to let somebody help you... let somebody take care of you." He finally does reach out and run his hand down Leo's spine, fingers trailing down Leo's t-shirt.

Leo doesn't move, though he releases a long shuddering breath as Neymar's hand moves over him.

Neymar grows bold, feeling the heat from Leo's body through the thin cotton. "I'd do it, you know," he says earnestly, licking his lips. "I'd take such good care of you." He wants to slide Leo's shirt up, touch his bare skin, press kisses onto his back. He wants to peel Leo's clothes off and spread his thighs, suck his cock and then fuck him until he's seeing stars. But he removes his hand when Leo speaks again.

"No," Leo says, hands still grabbing at the couch.

It's somewhat muffled because Leo's speaking into the cushions, and Neymar's a bit hurt that Leo rejects him so bluntly. So easily. Like there hasn't been this connection--this growing attraction--between them. Neymar fumbles with the drink in his other hand, trying to figure out what to say, how to recover.

Leo rolls onto his back, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. His shirt slips up, revealing a strip of pale skin just above his waistband. Linking his hands behind his head, his gaze lazily travels over to Neymar. "I don't have sex during the season." He pauses. "But, if we win the treble," he says slowly, turning his head to the side.

Neymar stops breathing.

Leo's eyes meet Neymar's. "You can fuck me if we win the treble."

Neymar doesn't remember much else from that conversation with Leo.

Eventually they both ended up passing out, curling up together on Neymar's couch, and waking up the next morning with terrific hangovers. For a second Neymar thinks he imagined the whole thing the night before, but as Leo leaves, eyes squinting and forehead creased, Leo looks him up and down and smirks.

And right that second Neymar knows he didn't imagine a thing.

As the season continues, Barcelona begins to click. Things begin to fall in to place. And there are tiny whisperings that Neymar starts to hear floating around. Little blurbs that he starts to read. And they're about one thing.

The treble.

And every time Neymar hears them, sees them, reads them, he can't help remembering the look in Leo's eyes as he stared up at Neymar. Then, when they win la liga, the rumblings swell to a roar. Everyone everywhere is talking about the treble--how it's in Barcelona's grasp. They only have to reach out and take it.

Neymar's ready.

He wants it. Wants the treble.

And maybe more than that, he wants Leo.

Even when an Athletic Bilbao defender smashes him to the ground during the Copa Del Rey, and players start to come after him about showboating, Neymar can't bring himself to care. Because he's already thinking about the game against Juventus. And as Xavi's steering him around the pitch, avoiding the other players, Neymar's eyes go to Leo.

Leo's eyes are dark with amusement, though his face is blank. But when the final whistle goes, pure joy appears. And as Neymar hugs him, Leo's arms are tight around his neck. "We're gonna do it," Leo whispers, like he can't believe it. "We're gonna win the treble."

Neymar holds him close, brushing his lips against Leo's ear. "The treble," Neymar confirms. "And then," he whispers, as Leo shivers. "Then we're going to celebrate." His hand slides down Leo's back, stopping on the swell of Leo's ass. He's hyperaware of all the cameras around them, so he can't do what he wants to do. But he holds Leo close, relishing the feel of Leo's arms around him.

Leo's breathing heavily when Neymar lets him go, and he staggers a bit as his feet finally reach the ground again. But there's a grin stretched wide across his face. "Only if we win," he says, pupils dilated, before backing away from Neymar and being swept along by the crowd.


End file.
